


Little Things

by ToastyDehmer



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M, No Dad!Spy, Oblivious Medic, Secret Crush, Thoughtful Scout
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25423396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToastyDehmer/pseuds/ToastyDehmer
Summary: Scout started noticing the little things about Medic and likes them.Medic started noticing the little things someone has been doing for him and wonders who.
Relationships: Medic/Scout (Team Fortress 2), Spy & Engineer (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 70





	1. Melatonin

Medic only used the word _Herr_ when talking to a teammate when he was angry or annoyed. That was the first thing Scout noticed.

The thought came out of nowhere when Medic and Spy were arguing at one of the team dinners. Smoking somehow came up (Scout couldn’t remember how just that it did) and Medic said something to Spy about his lungs. Spy shot something back. Scout watched Medic’s eyebrows pinch. He watched the little frown that crossed his thin lips. He watched the man’s eyelids drop into something...resigned, that’s the word. And he heard Medic say _‘Herr Spy’_ before starting their argument. Out of nowhere the thought hit him like a sack of potatoes.

Medic only used _Herr_ when he was pissy.

And from there, Scout’s observations grew in number. Stupid shit like how Medic took his coffee or how he only drank it when he thought no one was around to see him steal a cup back to his medbay. Scout learned the difference between the man’s smiles. The one he wore with his head tilted down was the one that meant someone was losing a limb or organ. The one he used when he found something funny he raised an eyebrow with and tilted his head to the side instead of down.

Then it hit him.

Scout _liked_ those smirks. He _liked_ all the ‘stupid shit’ he learned about Medic

He liked Medic’s chuckles. He liked how crazy he looked laughing like a maniac, blood all over his uniform. He liked seeing that tired smile after a long and successful day out in the field. He liked how much Medic cared. He liked knowing how much he cared despite how much the guy tried to hide it. Scout liked to think he was one of the few on the team who even noticed that part. Because it felt like no one else freaking did.

Scout looked. He observed - is what Snipes would say. He watched from the dinner table, the rec room, the mess hall, the battlefield, the medbay. He watched. And he saw. Just these quick little looks. Ones that lasted less than a couple seconds. Couldn’t ogle Medic for too long. Scout didn’t want to think what the _team_ would think if they caught on. Because...this wasn’t normal.

Scout knew that.

But he couldn’t help looking. Couldn’t help sneaking a peek in the showers. Couldn’t help darting by during work every so often. Couldn’t help popping his head through the medbay doors late at night when everyone else was supposed to be asleep because Medic would fall asleep at his desk and who else would make sure they guy at least had a blanket on his shoulders? Who else would put away all those papers on his desk or neaten them, carefully slipping them out from tired hands and arms? Who else would make sure the infirmary was all good, everything put in its place, and Medic’s doves taken care of in case the man fell asleep waaaay too early again?

No one.

No one else would, that’s who.

And Scout couldn’t just leave the guy like that. He couldn’t - wouldn’t wake him up despite knowing Medic wouldn’t complain in the morning of a sore neck and only rub the back of it all through every single match instead. Too many questions to answer. And no one would like his answers because liking another dude the way Scout did was wrong.

Scout knew that.

But he couldn’t help it.

And he found he didn’t want to change it even if he could.

Scout ‘liked’ Medic. And...he was okay with just watching. It was safer that way. For both of them.

And it stayed that way months after that first thought came, months after he realised just how much he cared about Medic.

* * *

“You sure you know where to find it?”

It was a question that nagged on him. Of course Scout knew where to find anything _and_ everything in the medbay! He only put everything away properly how many times a week? At least two or three times. But of course he couldn’t tell Snipes that. It wouldn’t make sense without explaining Scout’s little secret. He - like every other person on the base - avoided the medbay. Much as Scout ‘liked’ Medic, he wouldn’t willingly go in there when the guy was on a roll with whatever he was doing. That was asking to be put under his scalpel.

Point was, Scout couldn’t tell Sniper the truth. All he could say back was something stupid, that he could, don’t worry about it, it’ll be fine. Sniper’s constant little doubting irked Scout enough that he visibly fumed walking away from the van and to the sliding doors leading to the kitchen. The glass rattled in the frames when he slammed it open, grumbling under his breath. He almost winced. But when no reprimand came, Scout looked around to find the kitchen empty for once.

Sliding the door closed again is when the smell hit him and he whirled around. There on the counter was a pot of coffee. It hadn’t been there twenty minutes ago when he headed out to Snipes’ van earlier. So...kinda fresh.

Scout didn’t care for coffee. Too bitter black and one hell of an aftertaste even when he sweetened the hell out of it. Medic did though. He liked it with no sugar but a goddamn huge amount of cream. Practically half his mug. Scout didn’t know how the man could stand it but he loved the little sigh the other guy let out after his first sip before he squirreled it away. Guy probably didn’t get it often. Medic never made it. He spoke out against it, saying it wasn’t good to drink. Something about ‘caffeine’. No one listened to him about that, not really.

Probably didn’t want them to know he drank it too.

Did Medic know there was some here now? Would he want some? Scout was heading to the medbay anyways. But if Medic was there, how would he explain the cup? Scout didn’t drink coffee. Not that he said that or anything but it would be a first. And how would he explain it being made just the way Medic likes it?

The coffee machine beeped and pulled Scout out of his thoughts. His face flushed. How long had he just been standing there staring at it?

“Screw it,” he muttered. It was easy making Medic’s coffee. He’d seen the dude do it enough himself. He pulled one of the coffee mugs out of the cupboard and filled it a little under halfway full with the brew. Steam rose up from the cup and so did a fresh waft of the scent. It made Scout smile. Creamer was next and he noisily pulled it out of the fridge, slamming the thick door closed and humming softly. Some tune he barely remembered outside of the fact his Ma loved it. The rest of the mug was filled with creamer and Scout let it mix itself while tossing the creamer back in the fridge.

Scout counted his lucky stars that no one walked in while he made the cup and quickly made to leave with the mug in his hands.

It was a short trip to the medbay and when Scout got there he paused outside the double doors. Carefully, he pressed an ear to them. It was quiet. He could hear the doves cooing sometimes but Medic’s signature muttering wasn’t there. Which meant he at least wasn’t sitting at his desk doing paperwork or writing in his research journal or drawing up anything. So he either was in his side room in there or he was out. It was...what was the time? Probably almost 3PM. Yeah, this was about the time Heavy would drag Medic out for a game of chess if the big guy was gonna ask. Scout would bet good money they were both in the rec room.

Slowly, he pushed open one of the doors and slipped inside, making sure it shut just as quietly. He was right, Medic was out. Aaaaand he left his desk a mess again.

Scout trotted over to the only desk in the room with an amused grin. He fondly shook his head even as he gently placed the mug of coffee down and started righting everything.

“Submission forms… those go right here. Req- re-qui-si-tion. Requisition forms! I know where those go. Riiiiight here. And this- is this _another_ research journal? Jeez, how many of these things does the doc got? This should go in with the other recent ones down in this drawer.”

On and on he went, softly talking as he worked. Papers were put away, sorted, and straightened. Medic’s notes were carefully looked over and sorted into the files they belonged to. It felt like no time at all had passed but when he glanced at the clock on the wall above the doors he came through, he winced when Scout saw he had been in there for….around twenty minutes. At least he was done with that now.

“Right,” he grunted, taking a step away from Medic’s deck. “What did Snipes need again? Uh...I think…”

Scout looked around the medbay as if it would give him the answers he was looking for. Well, it told him jackshit _but_ it did jog his memory.

“Melatonin. That’s what he was needing. Those were…”

Again he looked around, walking towards where Medic kept most (if not all) of the pill bottles. It was this wide set of shelves in the wall, each one labeled in German in Medic’s handwriting. All but the names of the pills. He wondered if the names were a universal thing or if Medic wrote them in English so the rest of the team wouldn’t have trouble finding one if he asked for help. Scout was pretty sure Heavy had helped more than once with the more…’fidgety’ patients. And by fidgety Scout meant Snipes and Py. Both of them hated coming to the medbay.

“Sleeping stuff, right? That should be around here.”

Scout though was familiar with the shelves and their groupings because of how often he put things away. Sure he messed up once or twice (knew it when Medic would mutter about misplacing things in the morning) but Scout got pretty good at guessing what was for what depending on what was written on the papers around them.

Thankfully, Medic was required to write in English on the requisition forms and he had to list everything about whatever it was he was needing. Like what meds did what and why he needed them in the first place.

Scout got good at guessing what certain words meant even if he didn’t know the meaning.

Careful hands pawed through the different sleeping medications, briefly lifting each one and squinting at the label before muttering and putting it back.

“How many different sleeping pills does one quack need?” Scout mumbled under his breath. He was almost through the entire section and so far none of them had even started with an ‘M’. At the second to last bottle, he saw the first letter of what was in the bottle and nearly jumped in joy. First letter was an ‘M’! Scout quickly snatched it out of the shelf and held it closer. It took a few seconds to sound it out but he was pretty sure this one was melatonin.

Scout quickly stowed the glass bottle in his pants pockets with a grin.

“About damn time!”

Scout took a step back - and ran right into something solid.

“What are you doing in my infirmary, _Herr Scout_.”

Shit. Medic. Annoyed Medic. Annoyed enough that a question didn’t sound like a question. Scout spun around so quickly he nearly lost balance before even meeting Medic’s bored face. Didn’t win against Heavy today then. Scout could tell he got stomped again in chess just from his body alone. It barely took a glance for him to know.

“Uh-”

“And what did you take from my shelves. Hand it over.”

Scout sighed and dropped his head, guiltily taking the bottle back out from his pocket and placing it in Medic’s expectant hand. And then he stood there, awaiting the lecture or punishment or whatever. He waited as Medic lifted the bottle up and read the label. Waited as the man lowered it and looked at Scout with a confused and pensive expression. But Scout never caught it, only looking up when Medic cleared his throat and by then it was gone and the bored expression back in place.

“As far as I am aware, you do not suffer from any sleeping problems, Scout,” Medic spoke. At least the _Herr_ was gone. It gave Scout some hope. “Or am I wrong?”

“Nah Doc, still sleep like a friggin baby at night,” Scout lied with a grin. It was...mostly true. Mostly. Only sometimes did Scout have trouble but those nights were pretty few and far between.

“Then why are you grabbing this for Sniper?” Medic questioned with a frown.

Scout blinked. Scout knew that frown, it was his confused one - like he couldn’t understand why an experiment went differently than his uh, his hy- hypoth-something. But that was besides the point because-

“How did you know I was grabbing it for Snipes?”

Medic’s expression changed. When Scout first saw it ages ago, he thought it meant the guy was pissed off about something. And that was kinda right. Scout learned over time that what it really meant was usually along the lines of ‘I can’t believe I work with people this stupid’ or ‘this is what my life has come down to?’. Usually somewhere on that spectrum. Scout liked to call it Medic’s look of Dead Disbelief.

Scout understood that one well.

“There are only two people on the entire team that need those and one of them wouldn’t trust you with washing his laundry, much less finding the correct medication for him. Again, why are you grabbing these for Sniper?”

If it were anyone else asking him this question, Scout wouldn’t hesitate to lie out of his ass and make some excuse - ANY excuse up because friends don’t grass on other friends. That's the way it was. For Scout at least. But Medic wasn’t just anyone to Scout and this little factoid mentally slapped him across the face as soon as he opened his mouth to do exactly that - lie.

Not a lot of people thought Scout still had a proper conscience. Sure he wasn’t book smart but street smarts _and_ morals he had in spades.

And it wasn’t right to lie to the person he ‘liked’.

So Scout sighed and deflated. Shoulders fell, chin fell, eyes fell. He slumped where he stood, bit his lower lip, and grabbed his left elbow.

“Because Snipes asked me to,” he quietly admitted. He felt...shame. He’s pretty sure that’s what the feeling was. Shame for thinking of lying to Medic and shame for ratting his friend out. But there wasn’t really a way for him to win here and didn’t that just suck ass.

There was a heavy pause. Scout didn’t look up. Medic didn’t speak. Even the Medic’s doves settled. It was just- quiet. It barely took a second for ants to start crawling under Scout’s skin, barely a second for him to start fidgeting where he stood. He never could wait things out as a kid. Not much had changed there as an adult. It was barely five seconds when Medic sighed right as Scout was about to break. But here’s the thing. That sigh wasn’t one of Medic’s annoyed or- or- exasperated? Was that the word Spy used? Yeah, it wasn’t one of his exasperated sighs either. It was just tired. And...accepting. Kind of like he was about to let it-

“Ach, fine.”

-go.

Holy shit.

What? No way.

Scout stared at Medic, eyes near-bulging because Medic _never_ let anyone get away with rifling through his shit. **_Ever._ ** Scout’s heard the stories of fingers getting snipped off and bones being broken over how freakily possessive the doc was with his infirmary. But here he was, eyes closed, bridge of his nose pinched, small frown almost hinting at- Scout wouldn’t say indulgence, not quite, but it was in that direction of emotions. Medic looked like that and he was letting Scout get away with it. Honestly, he thought he might be the first one to have it happen to anyone on the team.

It made him feel...special.

….Shit. No. No blushing like some damned virgin highschool chick. Not allowed. Big guys didn’t blush.

Scout looked back down just as Medic peeked through slivered eyes at Scout. Scout swore his face almost turned into a tomato just from meeting that tempered look.

“On one condition,” Medic grumbled, a single finger held up, other hand on his cocked hips. Scout knew when to nod and this was one of those times. “You tell _Herr Sniper_ that the next time he runs out, he is to come and ask **_like he is supposed to_**.”

...That growl Medic said those last words did something to Scout. If he wasn’t red before, he certainly was now.

Scout nodded, he nodded enough to make it feel like his brain was getting tossed around inside his skull. He still didn’t look up. Couldn’t really bring himself to and who was he kidding, even if he did he’d probably end up talking like an idiot and make a fool out of himself. Again.

“Good,” the doctor huffed. The pills of melatonin clinked against the bottle as Medic roughly handed it to Scout. “Now take these and go, I have work I need to get done.”

Another nod as Scout took the bottle of pills and quickly retreated. Fuck, he hoped Medic didn’t see the stiffy he was getting. Probably not because the last thing he heard before the infirmary doors closed behind him was, “Coffee?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this work is a WIP and I'm working on part 2 rn. No idea how long its gonna be for sure but I'm thinking either three or four parts???? Anyways, yeah. I have a soft spot for soft MediScout. Fight me. I mean, I'l lose but I'll still fight for this pairing.


	2. Queen

Something was going on. That much Medic was sure of. But outside of that? Honestly, not terribly much.

He knew someone had been coming around his infirmary when he fell asleep.

He knew someone was leaving him a cup of coffee the way he perfectly preferred it.

He knew someone besides him was taking care of his birds every so often.

He knew someone was keeping his medbay neat and tidy.

It was...probably a little pathetic how long it took him to notice all these things though. Looking back, he’d estimate them going on for the last four months, maybe even five.

It started with absent tidying. He’d leave and come back to piles of papers being just a bit straighter than they were when he left. His med shelves straightened. His tools placed back where he normally placed them. Things that were easy to miss and write off as him forgetting he did them in the first place.

Then came his birds. He’d find new water in their dishes or just a little too much or too little feed in their cage. That he played as him forgetting he did it when he was dead tired, tired enough to get the amount of food a little wrong. That’s when things started happening when he fell asleep at his desk after nonstop working hours after the team had dinner - if he remembered to go in the first place.

Then the blanket over his shoulders came and the odd cup of coffee on his desk and papers and forms and books and even his _personal research journals_ put away exactly where he would put them and he _knew_ he didn’t do that. Medic was used to things lying about when he did that. Oftentimes he’d wake up with a pencil stuck to his face because he fell asleep on it or papers or books on the floor because he tended to shift in his sleep.

Someone was...helping him? Being nice? Medic wanted to know who. Why he wanted to know...he wasn’t sure. Did he want to thank them? Tell them to mind their own business? Ignore it after finding out? The doctor wasn’t sure. He just felt he needed to know. That wasn’t unreasonable of him, right? To want to know who was doing all this? At the very least he wanted to know who was coming and going in his infirmary.

It was his workplace. He had a right to know who came and went. What if they were tampering with things? Looking at the nice...favors whoever it was had done for him, Medic knew it was unlikely but…

Alright, Medic knew he was grasping at straws but he was curious! Sue him.

His real problem laid not in the ‘why’ but in the ‘how’. There were multiple solutions but most of them would require talking to either one of two men. Engineer or Spy. Luckily, Medic had been able to find them both at the same time.

* * *

Medic knew offhand bits and pieces of habits each of his teammates had. It was things he picked up just from watching every now and then. For instance….

Pyro would only raise their mask above their lips during mealtime but when sucking on one of the lollipops Medic kept around just to keep the other calm in his infirmary, they hiked the mask above their nose and let it rest there.

Soldier had a habit of sneaking outside to watch the moon rise into the sky with Demoman every Friday evening right before he would go to bed at 10PM.

Sniper and Scout often spent Saturday afternoon out at the shooting range and wouldn’t come back in until they either ran out of ammunition or felt hungry.

Heavy would come each Sunday at 3PM on the dot to challenge Medic to a game of chess.

As for Engineer and Spy… Sunday into the wee hours of Monday would find the two sharing a bottle of whiskey over a game of cards. Sometimes they’d be found in the mess hall, sometimes the rec room, but more often than not they would seclude themselves in Engineer’s workshop. That’s where Medic found that at half past 11PM.

He had knocked and called inside, the door sliding easily for Medic to walk through. The workshop was an orderly place with a background noise of chaos to the image. Tidy. The floor was clean and free of any trip hazards. The walls were used to full capacity, tools hanging up on one part, a shelf of cubby holes for schematics and blueprints on another. High above on the ceiling hung what Medic could only assume were projects Engineer had taken to working on in his freetime. And there in the center of the large room was a wooden table with the Texan himself and Spy seated on either side, cards between them.

It seemed five-hundred rummy was their challenge for the evening. A game Medic was only familiar with in passing.

“Heya Doc!”

Medic met Engineer’s warm welcome with a small smile as he walked over, the man down to jeans and the red shirt with his emblem on the sleeves. Spy glanced over for a single moment before turning his eyes back to his cards, his jacket on the back of his chair, the sleeves of his white undershirt rolled up above his elbows, and his tie hung around his neck. He laid down a set of threes: three of heart, three of clubs, and three of diamonds. Engineer looked back to curse just as Spy discarded the two of clubs.

“It is a pleasant surprise to see you, docteur,” Spy finally greeted. He looked smug. No doubt it had to do with Engineer’s grumbling as the man drew a card. “Joining us this time?”

“Not this time,” Medic answered. He watched Engineer lay down the three of spades on his side of the table and then discard the two of spades. Odd. Medic took a peek at Spy’s face to see the same little frown of confusion on him.

“Not to say your company ain’t any good but why’d you come visit us then?”

It was a valid question coming from the Engineer and Medic pulled up one of the last few seats, the stool old but steady as he sat on it. Medic sometimes joined the two when he couldn’t sleep and his mind felt too fuzzy to work on anything. But tonight his head was clear.

“I’ve run into a slight problem and I need help,” Medic admitted. Spy took the twos from the discard pile and added one from his hand to them before laying the set on his side of the table. He discarded another card. “That or advice.”

“What kind of problem?” Spy asked while Engineer took his turn. The man turned his body towards Medic, frowning. Medic shrugged.

“Nothing serious if that’s what you’re worried about.” Medic glanced back over at Engineer. The man was mumbling something under his breath. Next to the pile and discarded cards was the bottle of whiskey for the night. Already it was about a third of the way down. Just as Medic was about to ask for a shot, Spy placed his own glass next to Medic. The doctor took it with a grateful nod, taking a small sip just as Engineer finished his turn with another discard.

“Someone has been in my infirmary without my knowing. While I’ve been asleep.”

“Nothing’s gone missing, right?” Despite Medic telling them it was nothing, Engineer still sounded worried. Medic snorted.

“Nein. Nothing has been stolen. If anything, whoever comes has been...helping.”

Spy picked up the discard pile and brought his hand up to ten before immediately laying down a straight of hearts four through eight and a three set of fives. Another discard. One card left in his hand while Engineer had four.

“I am assuming you would like our aid in finding out who exactly has been ‘helping’ you, _oui_?”

Engineer drew a card.

“ _Ja_.”

Spy seemed to hesitate.

“Well-”

“I think that’s game, Spy!”

They both looked over at Engineer. He turned his hand around and Spy cursed. A straight of spades from the ten to the king and a spare five of clubs next to them. Medic did some quick math in his head between the two sides of the table and only frowned. Spy’s point total came up to fifty. Engineer’s only came up to forty-five. So how…?

Engineer laid the straight down and discarded the five with a grin, hands going up behind his head, chair tilted back. Spy rolled his eyes and grabbed the cards. Medic looked back and forth between the two with one eyebrow higher than the other. Engineer caught on first.

“‘S the queen of spades, doc,” was all he said. As if that was an explanation. Spy sighed while he shuffled the cards and spoke up again.

“What he means to say is that the queen of spades is worth more than the other queens, Medic. That card in five-hundred rummy is worth forty points as opposed to the normal ten. His total points that round was seventy-five, not forty-five. It was just enough to put him over five-hundred points.”

All too easily the man slipped the card in question out of the deck without stopping his shuffling. Medic dragged the card closer across the table. Why make this card so special? He shrugged and ended up not asking.

“So you were saying you needed help catching someone?” Engineer asked. Medic sat back and peered over at Engineer. Spy slipped the card back into the deck of cards. “What? I was listening. You know as well as I do how good I am at multitasking.”

He was right.

“ _Ja_. I did say that.”

Engineer nodded. The front legs of his chair loudly thumped against the floor when he sat it down right again before going on to say, “I’d have to grab a spare camera from the supply closet but I could set one of them up. It’d take a bit to get the wiring set up and some kind of storage device for the video.”

“If you want the Administrator asking the next day why one of her cameras was commandeered,” Spy scoffed. Both the other men turned their eyes to him, Medic curious and Engineer scowling while he took a decent sized gulp of his glass of alcohol. Spy paused in his shuffling, noticing the pause in conversation. Another sigh and he continued both with the cards and with talking.

“Every single one of the video cameras here is set to wirelessly transmit to wherever it is the Administrator has herself holed up. It’s Australian tech. Outdated from what I could find out but Australian nonetheless so it did not surprise me when I found out.”

Engineer let out a low whistle.

“Damn. No wonder I couldn’t ever find any wires for the damn things. Just the power cables.”

It was news to Medic. He knew their every moves were being watched from the time they fought on the field to the meals they ate in the mess hall and even to the lockers just outside of the showers. _Hölle,_ Medic even knew there were sound recorders in all the private spaces like bedrooms and bathrooms. Everywhere there wasn’t a camera, they were at least being listened to. Even Engineer’s workshop.

“I’m more surprised you’re sharing this much with us, Spy,” Medic softly stated. Wasn’t he-

“Afraid our dead boss will have ‘words’ with me?” Spy asked, cutting off Medic’s thoughts. The grey eyes that regarded him were all too knowing. Medic scrunched his nose. He never did like that look of Spy’s, especially when it was pointed his way.

“You’re not?”

Medic raised a brow, silently asking the same question as Engineer.

Spy snorted and looked back down. His eyes focused back on what his hands were doing - which Medic doubted he even needed to do.

“ _Non._ I am not. It is not that hard to find out. It only took me a few hours to figure it out when I first arrived years ago.”

“And what the hell did you tamper with to figure that out?”

“Nothing. Like I said, I guessed and later found out after cross-referencing the information.”

Medic didn’t need to know how he confirmed that guess. He was well aware the Spy had connections outside the base, outside the country even.

“So then if the spare cameras are out of the question,” Medic started, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest, “then what is your suggestion? How do I catch this...intruder.”

He had already tried staying up to catch whoever it was in the act but obviously that hadn’t worked so far or he wouldn’t be there just to ask for help. It seemed the suspect knew of a way to tell if Medic was awake in his infirmary. And going about asking wouldn’t get him anything. A man with any common sense would lie. Unless it was Soldier but he highly doubted it was him. The man went to bed no later than ten at night and woke up like clockwork at half past six in the morning.

But it didn’t matter if he knew that or not. It still left him without an answer.

Spy didn’t answer. Nor did he seem he had any intention to. Medic sniffed and flatly glared at the other man.

“So you shoot down the idea but have no other suggestions?” he asked, voice bored. He looked away, scowling. “Normally you have at least one idea you believe is better.”

“Nah, I think he already knows who it is,” Engineer chirped. Puzzled, Medic glanced at Engineer to find the man smirking at Spy. Engineer had his drink in his hand and waved it towards Spy with another grin on his lips. “Don’t cha?”

“There isn’t much that goes on in this base that I don’t know about, laborer.” Looking back at Spy, Medic found the man glowering down at the cards in his hands. “Regardless, if is none of your business.”

“Who is it then?” He couldn’t help asking. Medic knew if Spy hadn’t told them yet, he wouldn’t at all but it was worth a try.

With a sigh, Spy stopped shuffling the cards. He leaned over the table, bare forearms flat against the battered wood surface, deck in one hand.

“First, tell me, Medic.” Spy looked to Medic and...Medic wasn’t sure what he would call the emotion in the thin line of his mouth or the steel of his eyes. Concern? Care? Determination? Maybe it was a mix. “Who do you think it is?”

“Heavy,” he answered after a pause. He thought it was a natural conclusion to come to. The two of them were close friends. Medic also knew the large man preferred other men over women. Was it too far-fetched to think Heavy had grown to feel something more than friendship? But...Medic already knew that wasn’t it or he wouldn’t be there asking for help.

Heavy didn’t know Medic liked coffee. He thought Medic hated it just like everyone else on the team. The one time they came back from a game of chess a few weeks ago, Medic had found _another_ cup of perfectly made coffee on his desk. It wasn’t there when Heavy had come to grab him for a game and the man hadn’t left Medic’s sight the entire time they played. Heavy had even offered to dump the cup and take it out for Medic.

No, it wasn’t him. And Spy’s forlorn sigh only proved it. Spy seemed to think on his words, silently mulling them over. Medic patiently waited and Engineer stayed quiet, taking another swig of his whiskey.

“I will make this short since I know you appreciate brevity,” Spy hummed. He fanned out the deck of cards in his hand and showed them to Medic face up. Medic glanced down at them before flicking his eyes back to Spy’s. “These cards are this place, the people here. Obviously there is not the same number. They are slightly different from each other. Look the same. And depending on the game - have only slightly different values. Just like in our game just now, some hold more value than others.”

Spy glanced over the cards for barely a second before he quickly plucked a single card out from the rest with ease. He held it up between two fingers while his other hand slid the cards back into one pile. Spy expertly flicked it Medic’s way. The card harmlessly hit his shoulder before falling down to the table. The queen of spades lifelessly stared back up at him.

“You would think it would be a king that would be worth more in five-hundred rummy,” Spy murmured as Medic picked the card up. “Instead it is a queen, a card no one suspects because if not the king then surely the ace? No, the queen.

“You are looking for your Queen of Spades, docteur.”

Medic froze for half a second. The way Spy said that...serious. Steely. Something promising violence. Why? Medic cautiously handed the card over. Spy took it back, sharply plucking the card from between Medic’s fingers. He slipped it back in with the rest of the cards.

“I will not offer my help and Engineer cannot do what I can,” Spy continued after a heavy pause. “I have given you as much of a hint as I am willing.”

Which meant he was back to square one. _Wunderbar._ Medic sighed through his nose, dejected. Another pause. With a nod Medic stood up and delicately placed the glass given to him back in front of Spy.

“Understood.” Whoever it was, Spy had a sense of moral obligation for once. It gave him a place to start. As for his so called ‘hint’... That would require some thinking. If not the obvious choices then who? “Good luck to the both of you. May the better cheater win.”

Engineer chuckled at that but didn’t deny it as Medic walked out.

* * *

They were in the middle of a game when Engineer finally spoke up.

“So tell me, who is it really?”

Spy saw the question coming. Had seen it forming in the man’s eyes the entire time Spy had spoken to Medic. The Texan had grown tense. And wary. His jaw had clenched and his lips had thinned, unease brewing inside of him. Spy saw it coming and had thought maybe he could tell him. Maybe.

“Who’s the fairy ‘round here.”

And that was why he was so reluctant to ‘spill the beans’. Spy didn’t hold back his glare when he pointed it Engineer’s way.

“Where you are from, calling homosexuals that way may be acceptable but do remember, _William_ ,” the first name got the wince out of the Engineer just like Spy wanted. “Our teammates are from all over. I understand that for you, it is no more than another name. Others here will see it as the insult it started as.”

Spy turned his attention back to his shit hand and pretended to think about his next move. All the while, Engineer awkwardly shuffled in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck, very soundly chastised. Engineer was an agreeable man. Always was even if something made him feel uncomfortable or if he didn’t agree with it. Spy knew it was the same with this.

“I gotcha, alright?”

Spy only hummed in response, purposefully calm as he placed his two cards in the dealer’s crib. Engineer took it for the acceptance it was. The game continued on normally for another two hands, Spy pulling ahead of Engineer by a good thirteen points on the cribbage board. They were nearing the end of this game. They didn’t say another word, just drank more out of the bottle. It was only after Spy was sure he’s win with this hand that he finally said,

“Scout.”

Spy pretended not to see the confused peek Engineer sent him and only waited the few seconds it took for the words to get through the man’s mind. Even intoxicated as they were, he knew the other would get it. He was proven right when the man’s response came not too long after.

“Ah shit. Ain’t that-”

Were there anyone else with them, Spy would cut Engineer off and simply nod. As it stood, it was only them, Engineer already knew, Spy himself obviously knew, and there was no reason the Administrator would not already know.

“BLU Spy’s nephew, _oui_ ,” he finished for Engineer.

“And you ain’t-”

“Of course I don’t agree with it,” Spy quickly spoke up, indignant. “Jack is young, Jürgen much too old for him for my conscience - much less Burtoge’s. That BLU _will_ have a fit, I guarantee it.”

Engineer hummed. Another bout of silence. And then,

“You know you ain’t gotta keep up that pretense when it’s just you and me, Pietro,” Engineer spoke up with a smile in his voice.

Spy didn’t hide his heartfelt smile.

“Sometimes I forget... _grazie_ for reminding me, _amico_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are looking like it's gonna be four parts, maybe five. Gonna try and pump this out partly as a challenge and partly bc I don't want to lose interest and drop this bc I like where this is going so far.
> 
> Note, there was no forethought on this, no planning. It started as a drabble with the first chapter some time ago and then eventually grew. So yeah, I know just about as much as you do as to where this is going to go lmao


End file.
